


I have a question to ask

by GreggorMcPheeb



Series: I have a question to ask [1]
Category: 10 O'Clock Live RPF, British Comedy RPF, Jimmy Carr - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:10:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreggorMcPheeb/pseuds/GreggorMcPheeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wedding dress, 10 o'clock live and one dumping later....</p>
            </blockquote>





	I have a question to ask

“Actually to finish off tonight, I have a letter to read. Although I’ll need a certain lady,” a deep voice cheered, generating laughter throughout the crowd “Well I may need to change the name this is addressed to…Elle,” he called out, holding his hand out to the wings. I walked slowly and hesitantly out onto the stage. I was immediately hit with a wave of applause as I took his hand, squeezing it tightly “Look up to the box,” he nodded, the lights moved to a box where our families and friends sat.

Dear Elle,

I’m so sorry but I’m madly and stupidly in love with you. I know I’m a pain in the arse to be around, especially to live with. However, you’re the love of my life, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. You’ve been there for me during the highs and lows, and I don’t say this enough but you are perfect. You make me laugh more than I make audience’s laugh. You’ve supported me through everything, picking me off the ground and being the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. Putting it simply, although from the not-very-romantic Steel Panther: ‘Heaven sent, take one look and I pitch a tent’.

“So, I have one question to ask you…”

 

2 years earlier:

I had genuinely had enough. I usually loved the rush of manic deadlines, however my co-workers could genuinely get on my nerves as much as they were good fun to be around “Speak in English man! Not fucking text speak!” I erupted, throwing the pen I had in my hand at the assistant. My spirit sunk as the pen left my hand, the adrenaline slowly running out “Please, no more abbreviations.”  
“Right, well, research has all been accepted. However, Germaine Greer has pulled out.”  
“You’re kidding me? Fuck! Who are we going to get now?”  
“This is the number for Alice Walker.”  
“Phone for you Ellen,” someone shouted from across the office.  
“Right, call her, get her on the show,” I instructed, stalking over to the phone “Hello?”  
“It’s Jimmy Carr’s assistant here, he needs the research regarding Syria sent ASAP.”  
“Hey Stacy, I’ll do it now.”  
“Oh hi Ellen, cheers darling. See you tonight,” she said hanging up. I rushed to my desk and emailed the file as soon as I unlocked my computer.  
“Bloody idiot,” I huffed, taking a sip of coffee that was placed in front of me “Thank you Lucy.” I checked my watch, it was an early start for us all. The presenters and crew would be arriving soon and I would be spending the rest of the morning reading through scripts, checking the content against the official research.

“Lucy! LUCY!” I called out, spinning in my chair.  
“She’s gone for lunch,” someone replied. I lazily stood up, stretching out as I made my way out of the office and downstairs to the studio. She scanned the horizons for the assistants before collecting the scripts from the small group.  
“No runner today?” Stacy asked.  
“I know, I have to actually leave the office!” I laughed.  
“Stay here with us, I’ll grab you some coffee,” Joe said, kissing my cheek. We settled down to the side, I straddled the bench and flicked through the scripts, trying to deduce the scrawls.  
“Cheers,” I said, taking a swig of coffee the moment the paper cup landed in my hand. I had one ear listening out to the rehearsal when I heard something about Syria “Yeah, you can’t have that.” The director cut the rehearsal as one of the presenters looked over to me “The UN haven’t actually released a statement regarding chemical weapons.” I handed back the script, the presenters poured over it, adding new comments on whatever piece of blank paper was available. I could almost see the comedy cogs whirring in their brains. I ran my hands through my hair, watching the crew trying to figure out the sudden change. I sat back down with Harry and Stacy, chatting aimlessly as their phones constantly bleeped. Then, for once, my phone interrupted theirs. I pardoned myself as I answered “Hello sweetie.”  
“Hey Ellen, umm look, I don’t want to do this on the phone but I’m already on the train. I can’t be with you anymore, it’s me. I’m going to Paris.”  
“Jon, I’m at work. You fucking arsehole.”  
There was a pause as he checked the watch I gave him, letting out a self-pitying sigh “Shit, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”  
“You are a complete dick! You couldn’t even tell me in person,” I began to shout “I seriously hope everything of yours is gone out of my flat. Oh and by the way, I know about that girl from the bar.”  
I quickly hung up and stalked my way to the office, my tears blurred my vision until every person was a hazy outline. I fell into my seat and buried my head in my hands. For fucks sake, why now? On a horribly busy day, surrounded by colleagues “Ellen, what’s happened?” Lucy asked, I could feel her soft hands caressing my back.  
“Been fucking dumped over the phone, at work.”  
“Bastard,” she hissed. I snorted at her sudden outburst “Christ girl, go home, I’ll say it was a family emergency.”  
“I don’t want to,” I said, shaking my head as I wiped my eyes.

~*~

I stood at the back during the filming, I leant against Harry as his hand stroked my arm. He forced me to watch, convincing me it would distract me from today’s events. I always watched the show live, but only from the office. The atmosphere in the studio was heavy with excitement and everyone buzzed, especially the presenters. Jimmy rushed backstage for a costume change, bumping into me. He called out an apology with an extra glance towards me before darting into a dressing room. A minute later he came back out in a wedding dress, wolf whistles erupted. I couldn’t help but giggle, we caught eyes again and he stopped to ask me “Are you ok? I overheard you in the corridor this afternoon, I didn’t on purpose.”  
“Better than you’re looking,” I smirked.  
He faked shock, fanning himself with his hand “I’m glad you’re ok.”


End file.
